Thursday, August 06, 2015

Vacation Day 9-10: It's Raining Wild Raspberries

At night you need a sweater (that's a "jumper" to you folks who don't speak English in its original American). It rained sometime in the blackness of Monday night. Early Tuesday dawning there was a mist enveloping our cottage. At Wednesday tea-time, streams of rain thumped steadily against the car roof as we drove back from the lighthouse.

On Tuesday afternoon, the air sweated and the earth scent was feral and fungal as we walked through dank trees and ferns to the reed-clotted rocky coves abutting the bay. White and blue lobster traps, buoys, and boats bobbed in the sun. On Wednesday, emerald and sapphire waves turned to lime and sand and then to white-gloved tendrils that futilely grasped at the enduring banded strata of quartz and colored stone and then flowed and bubbled back to their mother's massive swirling limbs. Tuesday evening, meandering alongside the catnip and lily pad ponds by the main house, we ate wild raspberries from bushes dotted and dripping with the fuchsia fractal pods.

Late Tuesday evening we saw a tawny doe skitter from the road as we drove by. On Wednesday it was a scrambling chipmunk. Our hostess told us that, on Monday morning, she saw a 10 point buck nod to her as two blue herons danced a ballet on the pond and a porcupine nibbled her garden patch.

On Tuesday we didn't do much: just walked to the sea in various directions. Tal and I played Gin Rummy and Oh Hell. On Wednesday, we drove to the Pemaquid lighthouse and stopped to view shops along the way that sell jewelery, ceramics, beads, books, and paintings, all made locally. We found a small swimming hole and Saarya dove and swam while Tal and I dangled our feet in the water and watched for the snapping turtle who was floating nearby in the high reeds.

Tomorrow we leave. We will spend most of the day in Maine, and then head to Logan to catch our flight to Rome.
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